


Take Your Time

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 13:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I already saw you without mask, Wade. And I want to take a shower with <i>you</i>, not that.”</p><p>In which Peter wants Wade to be comfortable around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Your Time

“What are you doing?”

Peter raises an eyebrow and the red-black mask, already drenched by the hot water, frowns.

“I’m taking a shower with by web-head for the first time since we’re together. What else?”

“With _that?_ ”

Wade touches the wet mask, so stuck to his face Peter can outline his nose, cheekbones and lips, but he just shrugs, as if it’s not that odd to take a shower with a mask on the face.

“I don’t want to ruin my hair.”

Of course Wade would dismiss the matter with a joke, Peter thinks. He shouldn’t be that annoyed by it, but he _is_ , because even if they are sharing a house, their meals and a bed, Wade is still very uncomfortable to be around him without his mask (or “second face”, as he calls it).

Initially he wanted to wear it even indoor and only a tremendous dose of patience, calm words and reasoning from Peter convinced him to take it off, at least when they are alone in their apartment. He still puts it on whenever they go out, though, and Peter knows that will require more time. He will give it to him - going out and being surrounded by other people, people who aren’t Peter, is more difficult for Wade, he understands that.

But _this_ , this is not okay. They may have been together just for two months, but Peter wants this to be good for Wade, to _help_ him; he hates the way that mask follows Wade around the house, like a silent memento of his suffering, of his fears and need to put it on to feel human again. He sees how Wade’s fingers tremble when they are cuddling on the couch and the mask is on the armrest; how Wade flinches every time Peter touches his bare face, his soft fingertips caressing his scabs and holes; how he hides again under the mask after sex, after lunch, after everything.

There has been a massive improvement, this is true, but they still have a lot to work on. And Peter knows he has to be gentle, confident and not give up; it’s like dealing with a child, a scared, traumatized child, but a stubborn child nonetheless.

“We talked about this.” Peter reminds the merc, who frowns again and whines, grabbing Peter’s waist to press their hips together, hoping it will earn him a different reaction.

Peter just stares at him, not angry, not annoyed or sad, just neutral and serious.

“I already saw you without mask, Wade. And I want to take a shower with _you_ , not that.” he points at the mask and Wade jumps as if he has been slapped.

“I’ll take it off later.” he insists and he’s the one annoyed and slightly angry. “Damn, Peter, I don’t wear it as much as before now! Give me a break!”

“You are not making any sense. Why can’t you take it off _now?_ ” Peter replies, gently tugging at the red and black cloth, but Wade grabs his wrists and doesn’t let him pull it away. 

“I’m dirty, Peter.” the merc explains, his voice hoarser. Peter can’t see his eyes beyond the white lenses, but he can imagine how Wade is glaring at him. “It’s… it’s worse today.”

Peter softens and looks down; it’s true, Wade’s scars are bloody, swollen and redder today. He waits until Wade finally releases his wrists, not wanting to use his super-strength, then gently caresses his chest, hoping to give him some comfort.

“That’s why you should let me take it off.” he says with gentleness. “I want to clean you.”

“Blood.” Wade says surly. “And other unpleasant things, Petey.”

The young man shakes his head and makes to remove the mask again; Wade stops him for the second time, now clearly frustrated and starting to panic.

“Okay, you know what? You continue your shower and I… I’ll take it later. No problem.”

“Wade!”

But the merc is already out, dripping water everywhere, not even bothering to cover his lower parts with a towel. Peter reaches out to stop him, but almost stumbles and Wade is gone, leaving wet footprints on the white tiles.

Peter hurries to wash the shampoo off his hair and joins Wade in the living room with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, still wet and shivering at the cold air. The merc is on the couch, naked and as wet as him, damp mask glued to his face. The TV is on, but he isn’t really watching it, that Peter can tell.

“Wade…” he says softly and the scarred man springs up and pretends to be perfectly okay.

“Done already, Petey? My turn then.”

“No, wait…!” but Wade slams the door on his face and all Peter can do is look at the shape of his boyfriend’s buttcheeks printed on the couch.

 

Wade doesn’t talk about what happened for two days straight, but Peter feels guilty every time he sees the merc casually putting on his mask or when he forgets he’s wearing it, truly a second face attached to his own.

One day Peter can’t take it anymore, so he does what he usually does better.

He crawls on the wall outside, hoping the ungodly hour and the darkness will hide him, and hops into the bathroom, the window thankfully open.

Wade swears and flails when Peter enters the shower and closes the frosted door behind himself.

“Hi.” he says with a smile. Wade is still wearing his mask, but the look of utter shock, indignation and surprise is perfectly recognizable under it.

“I-I locked the door.” the merc babbles and Peter answers with all the calm in the world: “Window. I can stick to walls, remember?” He keeps rummaging through the shampoos until he finds his conditioner. “Help me, please?”

Wade takes the bottle he’s being patiently handed and, after putting some of the substance on his hands, he starts rubbing Peter’s hair. The young man takes the sponge and delicately cleans Wade’s shoulders, careful of any sensitive scar.

“Now you want to take a shower with me?” Wade asks with a pout and Peter glares at him.

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“I didn’t want you to see that shit, Peter.”

“I’ve already seen your face, Wade. And don’t call it ‘shit’.”

The merc falls silent and tugs at Peter’s hair, making him yelp for the surprise.

“Sometimes it’s difficult.” he softly says before Peter can complain. The young man forgets every protest about his poor hair to look at the merc with fondness and sorrow. Then he smiles and brings a hand on his masked cheek, feeling the scars and bumps beneath the cloth.

“I don’t know how you do it.” Wade continues. “It’s horrible, Peter, and not just my face. How are you even taking a shower with me right now?”

“It’s easy. You just have to stand under the stream of water and use the sponge like this.”

Wade snorts and ruffles his wet, foamy hair; he lets Peter slip a finger under the hem of the mask and he bites it playfully.

“I’ll try to hide it, okay? Somewhere where I can’t see it.” the merc says, but Peter shakes his head, raising on his tip-toes to kiss him gently.

“Take your time. If you are still uncomfortable around me, I don’t want you to be embarrassed. I’m sorry for the other day, Wade, I shouldn’t have insisted.”

“I’m not uncomfortable around you!” Wade exclaims as if the mere idea is beyond crazy. “I am uncomfortable around _me!_ ”

Peter’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“I thought you were insane when you first kissed me and we did the do, that’s true. But then you kept touching me as if it was nothing and you always asked me to remove my mask, so I thought you really weren’t disgusted and the problem became me again.”

“Oh…!”

A blush spreads over Peter’s cheeks and the young man looks inside his mind for something to say.

He knows Wade hates his body, but he genuinely thought he was so nervous and awkward because of _him_ , of Peter. Two months aren’t a lot, their relationship is still new and fresh, so misreading something is normal. At least this is all Peter can think about now and he curses himself for having been so blind, stupid and somehow self-centered.

“You think I wouldn’t love being touched by you? To feel your skin on mine?” Wade continues looking down in shame. “It’s just that I know what it feels like to touch this shit, to be with me. I know you don’t care, but I do and you don’t deserve…”

He is cut off by a kiss and another one and a third one, until Peter is peppering his chin with sweet pecks. Wade does his best to return the kisses, but the mask bothers him and Peter notices.

“Can I?” he asks gently, hands hovering over the hem. Wade hesitates, mumbles something and finally nods, letting the hot water and Peter’s mouth cover his bare face.

He can finally kiss the young man and he does so, pressing his cracked lips on the smooth, fruit-scented skin, Peter’s body against his, long fingers roaming across his damaged back.

“I’ll hide it.” Wade repeats as Peter starts playing with his earlobe. “I swear, Petey, I can do it.”

Peter smiles and kisses him again, this time on the mouth, a full, deep kiss. It’s easier to deal with this now that he knows Wade isn’t uncomfortable around him; he knows what to do to convince him to let himself go, to differentiate himself from the mask and what it represents.

“Take your time.” he repeats as well. “Small steps, okay? Just remember I don’t care about your face, Wade. I can be comfortable around you for the both of us until you are feeling ready.” His smile grows bigger, his kisses on the marred cheeks become playful. “And I love being with you, dork.”

Wade’s grateful answer is another deep kiss and two hands softly caressing the still foamy hair.

“Wanna watch _Ghostbusters_ later?” Peter asks as they continue to shower, not caring about all the hot water they are consuming. “We could order pizza.”

Wade is too busy nuzzling his neck and exploring every inch of his skin to give an answer, but his smile is enough for Peter to understand and they stay in the shower until Peter’s fingertips are wrinkled and Wade swears he’s sweating like a pig because of the hot steam.

As they wrap towels around their hips, Wade bends to recover his damp mask still inside the shower stall, observing it with a unreadable expression that every few seconds turns into calm and wonder.

“We can dry it if you want.” Peter says resting a hand on his arm, but Wade shakes his head.

“I’m not gonna wear it anymore for tonight.”

He casually tosses it on the washbasin and focuses his entire attention on Peter, closing his eyes when he feels his hands cupping his face.

“You okay?” Peter whispers against his mouth, soft lips caressing chapped ones.

“I’m always okay with you, Peter.”


End file.
